14 Thousand Eggs
now i am that chicken
that lays all those fourteen thousand eggs,
this small chicken
has tiny feathers
it cannot fly away but
it cannot lay its butt upon all these
fourteen thousand eggs
it is sad,
these fourteen thousand eggs
shall not hatch
how i wish i can hear the songs of
fourteen thousand chicks
what can their tiny voices be
to God? to those higher skies?
what cant they be?
shall they be angelic like those seraphims and cherubmims?
or shall they be the sounds of wailing
of grieving widows
of dissatisfied workers
of disappointed humanity
of men and women loveless upon the tracks of life
of children abandoned
of marriages in shackles and shattering
soon i shall retrace
what i have said
open the pages of this journal
and find out again
what life is,
if i have lived in
vain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Fourteen beautiful birds on wings
As baker packs thirteen odd eggs to count
To a dozen, a sonneteer fourteen
Sweet lines of praise on thine slender frame mount,
That thine mysterious marvels ne'er lean
Might seem; and when all fourteen fully hatch
Ah, gorgeous chicks to be, ready to fly
In time together in one single batch,
Or in formations only sonnets try.
The eight of them may oft land to face strife,
The six more that follow, in counterpoint,
Resolve and soothe— ah, sonnet's very life,
As volta, shift, sonneteers oft anoint,
Of whose last two, twain wings of a couplet,
Come to sing last short song of the sonnet.
______________________________________ _____________
- Sonnets | 04.11.12 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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Hard Currency
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
A half, a million dollars
A million dollars
Fourteen million
Why?
Ten million
Fourteen million
Dont you ever think of money?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
A half, a million dollars
A million dollars
Fourteen million
Why?
Ten million
Fourteen million
Dont you ever think of money?
As much cash as possible
As much cash as possible
As much cash as possible!!!
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One
One thousand voices
But not one heard
One thousand thoughts
But not one word
One thousand troubles
But no one will know it
Unless I decide to
Finally show it
One thousand cuts
Run down my arm
A tribute to my
Life of self-harm
One thousand scars
That will not heal
One thousand people
Who will not feel
One thousand but no more
I finally decide
There will be one less person
And one more suicide
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Who the hell wants fourteen pairs of shoes when they go on holiday? I haven't had fourteen pairs in my life.
quote by Brian Clough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most bands don't even last fourteen months let alone fourteen years.
quote by Peter Steele
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Work The Black Seam
This place has changed for good
Your economic theory said it would
Its hard for us to understand
We cant give up our jobs the way we should
Our blood has stained the coal
We tunneled deep inside the nations soul
We matter more than pounds and pence
Your economic theory makes no sense
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they cant control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
The seam lies underground
Three million years of pressure packed it down
We walk through ancient forest lands
And light a thousand cities with our hands
Your dark satanic mills
Have made redundant all our mining skills
You cant exchange a six inch band
For all the poisoned streams in cumberland
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they cant control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
Our conscious lives run deep
You cling onto your mountain while we sleep
This way of life is part of me
The is no price so only let me be
And should the children weep
The turning world will sing their souls to sleep
When you have sunk without a trace
The universe will suck me into place
One day in a nuclear age
They may understand our rage
They build machines that they cant control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fear
there is this fear
about how things move past us
a chick turning into a chicken
it lays an egg
and more eggs and hatch into chicks
in a moment
you sit there unmoved
left out like a stone on a river bed that went dry
last summer
come spring
the tight buds burst into flowers
you sit there unmoved left out like a rusty gate diminishing
its body on the seashore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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Fourteen Verses
My passion is to write modern sonnets
Yes indeed modern not traditional.
Iambic pentameter I regret
Is too restrictive and conditional.
I had observed that many years ago.
Expression of thought is more important
Than any well-placed iamb, apropos.
These little songs* are not songs at all; shan’t
Pretend when they're not. Mine are messages
That I compose within fourteen verses:
Some assurances, other presages.
They are my work for better or for worse.
If I fail to convey in fourteen lines
I'd nothing to say and wasted your time.
* Sonnet means little song.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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I signal with an independent label, Continuum. After that I put out a totally independent record, sold fourteen thousand of them from my basement, bought a house, started raising my kid, made a decent living.
Waiting For The Spider
how many small deaths?
nickels and dimes in dust filled pockets...
are we drifting off to sleep?
out to sea?
or further from the core?
we die in circles,
circles within circles.
with small short breaths hurled
on the hairy plate of eternity.
a thousand tiny fires,
built by unseen hands
on darkened roads...
a thousand tiny deaths!
or a thousand stop the world kisses,
when names and identities are forgotten,
if but for an eternal moment.
how many times must i be the butterfly?
the snail? the hummingbird flying backwards?
or just stagnant water in a cast aside tire...
waiting for the spider?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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10,000 Men
Ten thousand men on a hill,
Ten thousand men on a hill,
Some of m goin down, some of m gonna get killed.
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Drummin in the morning, in the evening theyll be coming for you.
Ten thousand men on the move,
Ten thousand men on the move,
None of them doing nothin that your mama wouldnt disapprove.
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
All clean shaven, all coming in from the cold.
Hey! who could your lover be?
Hey! who could your lover be?
Let me eat off his head so you can really see!
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Standin at my window wishing me goodnight.
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Each one of em got seven wives, each one of em just out of jail.
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Spilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up will a broom.
Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea!
Baby, thank you for my tea!
Its so sweet of you to be so nice to me.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Thousand Words
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD TELL YOU MY FEELINGS.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD TELL YOU I'M WILLING.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD EXPLAIN MY PERSONA.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD TALK LIKE MY MAMA.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD SING YOU A LYRIC.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD SELL YOU A GIMMICK.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD TELL YOU IT ALL.
IN A THOUSAND WORDS I COULD SAY NOTHING AT ALL.
poem by LaQuandra Baskin
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Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, with its base in the north and its apex in the south, which is called India, embraces fourteen hundred thousand square miles, upon which is spread unequally a population of one hundred and eighty millions of souls.
quote by Jules Verne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Favoured Fare
Some poets sing of scenery;
Some to fair maids make sonnets sweet.
A fig for love and greenery,
Be mine a song of things to eat.
Let brother bards divinely dream,
I'm just plain human, as you see;
And choose to carol such a theme
As ham and eggs and tea.
Just two fried eggs or maybe three,
With lacy rims and sunside up,
Pink coral ham and amber tea
Poured in a big, fat china cup.
I have no crave for finer fare;
That's just the chuck for chaps like me.
Aye, if I were a millionaire--
Just ham and eggs and tea.
When of life's fussiness I tire,
And on my skull I wear a cap,
As tartan-shawled beside the fire
I stroke the kitten on my lap:
Give me no broth and chicken breast;
My last repast shall hearty be . . .
Oh how I'll sup with chuckling zest
On ham and eggs and tea!
poem by Robert William Service
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Being Born!
continually being born...
...a thousand tiny deaths,
.....a thousand tiny births.
season to season,
....leaf to limb to bud,
.....conceptions to grasp,
to letting go of....
..snow like stillness,
....bringing new birth!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Coming Around
I need me in my life…
For without me I will die…
One thousand times…
What is it about me …I do not…
Understand…
Why do I think…I am not…
As beautiful…as…
I need me in my life…
For without me I will die…
One thousand times…
What is it about me…I do not…
Understand…
Why do I think …there is an…
Ulterior motive…
Why do I cater to abuse…
Why do I…Why do I… Why do I…
Why…
I need me in my life…
For without me I will die…
One thousand times…
Me! …yes! …I need you? …
''You've got me…Take me '…
‘I'm yours…I've always been here'…
‘I've died with you a thousand times'…
'And gave you life a thousand more'…
'I need you too'
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Night Of A Thousand Hours, No.1, Part 2
a thousand drunks
puking beside the tree
in front of my house
men dressed in tuxedos or thousand dollar suits
women in a designer's exclusive gowns
stumbling & laughing loudly
leaving the posh Halifax exclusive club next door -
a thousand taxis blowing their horns
impatiently waiting for a thousand partiers
desperate to go down-town for another drink
to pick up some guy or girl
to have a story to share with friends the next day-
a thousand television announcers
bellowing out the news of the day
of a thousand brutal murders
of thousands killed in a war somewhere
of thousands starving to death
with film footage in living color & stereo sound
on a thousand television sets
filling a thousand apartments & houses
with a strange blue glow-
a thousand giant leopard slugs
sliming their way along sidewalks
gathering together at night
conspiring in secret meetings
performing strange relegious ceremonies-
a thousand buzzing bees
each trapped inside a glass jar
a thousand small brown bats
flying around the street lights
in a feeding frenzy-
a thousand telephones
all ringing at once
but there's no one home
just a thousand disembodied voices
on a thousand answering machines -
a thousand faces staring at me
through my windows
a thousand faces reflected
in a thousand mirrors
a thousand images
flood into my eyes
a thousand memories
fill my burning over-stuffed brain -
a thousand neurons
firing as I fall on the floor
into a blissful coma
as a thousand suns
explode over the horizon
ending this thousand hour night -
poem by Gordon Coombes
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The Last Argument Of The Egg And The Chicken
i will always agree
on this last, that at the end
it does not really matter
which came first the egg or the
chicken because what matters
most
is what makes us
friends again.
take the chicken
i'll have the eggs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Thousand Years
Day after day, I feel myself slowing down, what does it mean?
The air has changed, its getting harder to breathe, or so it would seem
Sail me away to a distant shore, where everythings fine
Chorus:
A thousand years, lost in the blink of an eye
If the sky keeps fallin, the world will come tumblin down
In a thousand years
Tell me my friend, can you imagine a place free of boundaries and lies
Theres blood on the wind and its come all of the way from faraway skies
Take me away to a different world where everythings fine
Chorus
A thousand years, one day for every life
Just keep on going, well find you a home underground, in a thousand years
(instrumental break)
Sail me away to a distant shore, where everythings fine
Chorus
A thousand years, one day for every life
Just keep on going, well find you a home underground, in a thousand years
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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